


F.O.H.

by starraya



Category: Holby City
Genre: An ongoing experiment, F/F, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, How hard can I project on fictional characters, Internalised Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starraya/pseuds/starraya
Summary: "You aren’t the only one," Serena tells Abigail, "who  has commented on my notorious sapphism. I love Bernie, and I make no secret of it, but I am sick and tired of people thinking they can use my sexuality as a conversation opener. They never did when I was straight.”-Or five times (plus one) that Serena told homophobia to fuck off home.





	F.O.H.

1.

“I hear things have taken a turn for the Sapphic,” Abigail says to Serena as they step into AAU.

“Ah, that.”

“Some butch military medic caught your eye?”

“Yes, and ever since everyone seems to have this bizarre idea that they are entitled to comment about my personal life.”

Abigail’s smile freezes. “Oh I – I didn’t –”

“Forget it,” Serena waves a hand. “Anyway, I’m guessing your main priority is welcoming Ric Griffin back into the fold?”

-

Later, at Albies when Serena is having a drink with Abigail her phone flashes. Serena’s face lights up as she checks the text, slips the phone back into her bag.

“My partner,” Serena explains at Abigail’s curious look. “Saying that’s she okay to skype later.”

“I’m sorry,” Abigail says, “for earlier.”

“It’s okay, it’s just . . . you aren’t the only one who, from the moment I returned to Holby, has commented on my _notorious_ sapphism. I love Bernie, and I make no secret of it, but I am sick and tired of people thinking they can use my sexuality as a conversation opener. They never did when I was straight.”

“Must get irritating.”

“Doctors, nurses, porters, even patients who have somehow caught wind of it. At least you didn’t ask me about my sexual history or the state of my current sex life.” Serena remembers that man who once approached her in the bar, his jokes about a threesome.

Abigail winces. “That bad?”

“They’ve been worse questions. Ah,” Serena raises her wine glass to her lips, “the joys of homophobia.”

“What’s she like? Bernie?”

“Beautiful,” Serena smiles wistfully, “brilliant.”

2.

She’s immensely happy, Serena realises, as she drains the last of her wine. Immensely happy and immensely proud of her partner. She looked stunning, in her dress uniform, collecting the award for services to her country, and Serena's heart swelled to twice it’s size. However, as she waits for Bernie to return from the bar, her happiness is popped like a balloon.

“I tell you,” Serena hears an old man rasp to a group of his friends, “the world is not what it used to be. Immigrants swarming our country, taking our jobs, taking our hospital beds when they ain’t paid nothing into the system. We defended this country, and for what? To let everyone else walk all over us. But what do you expect,” the old man jabs his walking stick in the direction of the bar, where Bernie stands, “when they let poofs and lezzers serve.”

Serena marches over to the man, her heart beating furiously, but she forces her voice to stay calm and smooth – charming, almost.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing you just and I must agree the world is definitely not what it used to be. For one, it's a well-known fact that it is bigots like you that bring shame on this country.” Serena’s voice rises. “Not immigrants, who helped found the NHS in its infancy, or did you forget the British government _asked_ people from the Commonwealth to help with the labour-shortage after the war. And as for gay and lesbian soldiers, yes you can say the words without exploding, they commit more acts of bravery in one day than I bet you have done in your entire pathetic life. Major Berenice Wolfe has saved countless lives in her career. She has served in Iraq and Afghanistan, she was blown up by a IED, and yet you have the gall to stand there and preach hatred. Isn’t that what all wars are started by?”

Only when she finishes does Serena realise the entire room has gone deadly silent and that hundreds of service men and women are looking at her. Applause erupts, started by one of the women who had been listening to the old man speak. Serena turns to the bar to see Bernie looking at her, smiling, tears in her eyes.

3.

“Oh, what is it?” Serena asks Guy when he walks up to her after Bernie leaves for the loo. All night he’s been glancing at her, face like a wet weekend. It’s a fundraiser, not a funeral, Serena wants to tell him. “I presume you’ve come to ruin my evening?”

“Not in the slightest,” Guy grins. “I just wanted to have a word with you.”

“One, I presume, that cannot wait till tomorrow.” Serena talks a sip of wine, a fortification against his inevitable bullshit.

“Now, as Deputy CEO can I just say that both you and Bernie are tremendous assets to Holby and the work you’ve done with the trauma unit . . . well, your partnership is becoming almost famous.”

The greater the flattery, the greater the fuck you, Serena thinks. After Edward, she is well-accustomed to the tactics of sleaze balls.

“But?” Serena raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t help noticing that you’re both very . . . affectionate with each other”

“Sorry?” Serena gasps, can’t believe her ears.

“You wouldn’t be the first to have a workplace relationship and the fact you’re both women, well no one has a problem with that, but you do tend to flaunt it.”

“Flaunt it?”

“Exactly,” Guy says. “Especially at events like this, when the image of the hospital is crucial and –”

“Go to hell Guy.”

“Serena, I’m only –”

“Go to fucking hell. You’re the one that has a problem. No, you are the problem. If I want to hold my partner’s hand in public, I will. If I want to kiss her in public, I will.”

“Steady on. Don’t cause a scene.”

“You want to know what’s me causing a scene?” Serena says, before throwing her drink over him, soaking his white shirt with red.

It’s too late in the night and everyone’s too drunk to care for the spectacle, but Guy looks horrified as if Serena just lead a lesbian orgy in front of him.

“Is everything alright?” Henrick asks, appearing from nowhere.

“Peachy,” Serena responds, walking away.

“Serena?” Henrick calls after her.

“Just a minute,” Serena strides up to Bernie, asks if she’s okay to kiss her, to which Bernie says a confused yes, and kisses her, deep and long.

-

The next day Henrick calls Guy into his office and not so politely reminds him of the hospital’s no tolerance policy towards homophobia.

4.

They’re washing up together one evening, Serena hands deep in soapy water and Bernie wiping the dishes, when Serena says: “Sometimes, I wonder what Adrienne would have thought of us.”

It seems to come from nowhere, but Bernie knows, after losing comrades, that the slightest, most random thing can cross your mind, and submerge you into years of memories.

“I imagine myself,” Serena continues, “coming out to her. Imagine her reaction.” Serena passes a plate to Bernie. “It’s silly.”

“She was your mother. Of course, you’re curious about her knowing an important part of who you are.”

“Doesn’t matter though, now, does it?” Serena starts scrubbing rather viciously at a pan. “She’s dead.”

Bernie puts the plate down and places a hand on Serena’s arm. Serena lets go of the pan, lets it sink in the water. She stares at the little plate on the windowsill where she places her wedding ring when she washes up.

“She never approved of anything I did.” Serena remembers always feeling like she had to repress some part of herself around her mother, and that when she died she no longer had to.

“Even as a child, I was too outspoken, I wanted too much. And then when I was older: I wasn’t eating enough, I was eating too much, I was trying too hard, I was letting myself go.” Serena turns to Bernie, biting back a laugh. “She never liked my hair, she called it a boy’s cut. I suppose it makes me look a dyke.”

Shocked at herself, Serena's eyes drop away from Bernie's. She turns to find a tea towel to dry her hands on.

“I’m sorry,” she says, back turned to her. “I didn’t realise just quite how much it had affected me.”

Bernie comes up behind her, wraps her around around her waist.

"I can't help feeling that even if my mother was the kind of person who went to Pride parades when they were riots, she still would - well I would be the exception to her acceptance." 

Bernie doesn't know how to respond, knows things like 'she would only want you to be happy' doesn't work, knows that Serena will always have this uncertainty now, these questions.

Serena breaks a long moment of quiet with a laugh. "Sorry, here's me acting like I'm the only one who's ever been in the closet." Serena turns around in her arms. "And I didn't even know I was," Serena adds, hooking her arms around Bernie's shoulders. "Until someone seduced me with their sapphic prowess." 

"Sounds like quite the woman." 

"She is," Serena smiles.

"But just to make sure my powers haven't worn off," Bernie kisses Serena, remembers how Jason isn't back from Alan's until thursday.

5.

Serena feels as if she's floating on air as she pulls on to the hospital car park, as she and Bernie climb out of her car. 

They've hardly slept after a long, blissful night of rediscovering each other's bodies after months apart. Tonight, they're going to the Italian restaurant where they had their first - unofficial - date. Serena wants to know everything about Bernie's work in Nairobi, and Bernie wants to know everything about things back at home. They have seven glorious days together. 

Serena slips her hand into Bernie's and feels like she can take on the world.

+1

 _Fuck_ , Serena utters not so under her breath as the next contraction hits, _fuck._ The pain is overwhelming, and she doubles over in the middle of the hospital car park as her next-door neighbour, Kate, calls for a nurse and a wheelchair. Kate had driven her to a hospital and Serena’s waters had broken in her car. Thank god they had put down towels.

Serena’s feels tears prick at her eyes, and her vision becomes blurry. Someone in blue scrubs helps her into a wheelchair. Bernie, Serena thinks, she needs Bernie, but she can’t gather the energy to speak, sagging in the chair after the contraction finally passes. It’s too fast, it’s all too fast, she thinks, and she needs Bernie, needs Bernie to tell her that it’s going to be alright, that three weeks early is okay, that . . . she’s crying, Serena realises, and damns her hormones, but then thinks fuck it that contraction fucking hurt and she’s in labour for God’s sake, she’s scared, she wants to get of her wet clothes, she wants Bernie.

A nurse wheels her into a room, tries to help her on to a bed. Serena manages to stand, back bent, clutching on to the side of the bed.

“Has someone called your husband,” the nurse asks, “would like you me to –”

“Wife,” Serena screeches, as the next contraction builds. Her voice is so high and strained that the nurse struggles to make out the word.

“Sorry?”

“I’m gay! I want my wife!”

“Oh, I – “

“Or do . . .” Serena pants, “you just assume that . . . every patient is . . .  straight,” Serena’s nails dig deeper into the mattress, “perpetuating . . . the idea that hetero . . . sexuality is – “

Serena breaks off at the sound of Bernie’s voice, at Bernie rushing to her side. “I’m sorry, I was in theatre and they only just –”

“It’s okay,” Serena gasps, trying to reassure herself more than anything, trying to battle the contraction. She turns, her hands reaching to grip Bernie’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

Bernie’s hand rubs her back until she sees the contraction pass. “Let’s get you into bed, and into a gown, yeah?” Bernie shoots a piercing _why hasn’t this already been done_ look to the nurse. “And Doctor Thompson,” she instructs the nurse, who flees the room.

“Lecturing a nurse on the dangers of heteronormativity mid-contraction,” Bernie jokes to soothe Serena, “I’m impressed.”

Bernie looks down at Serena's  heavy, hard belly. "And it seems Mummy's not the only one desperate to come out.”

“Imagine,” Serena smirks. “Gay twins. Double the fabulousness.” 

Bernie laughs.

Serena eyes the clock on the wall. 2:33 AM. 

"This pair certainly have a flair for the dramatic," she says.

**Author's Note:**

> I normally write a younger Serena pregnant with twins (Charlotte and Elinor) but the last scene was also a pun on myself, because I am one half of a pair of lesbian twins and someone at an LGBT event once told me "it was double the fabulousness".


End file.
